


Blossoming forth

by astralprojects



Series: Second Person Fics [3]
Category: BanG Dream! (Anime), BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: "I must hold her ghost hands", "for the good of Roselia", F/F, POV Second Person, this doesn't fit any tags ugh, thoughts of love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:28:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24884596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astralprojects/pseuds/astralprojects
Summary: As the music plays on and on, the depth of what she means to you sinks in.
Relationships: Hikawa Sayo/Minato Yukina
Series: Second Person Fics [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1854790
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	Blossoming forth

The music revolves around you, gently lifting you up in its grasp and drifting you away with it.

You know where you're going - you've been there countless times before - yet you still can't wait to experience that waterfall of hope and pride again. Each time you arrive you stay there longer than the last, merging with the colours that bond with you as you're submerged whole in your sound's embrace.

Although it isn't played live, you can feel that same intense passion coursing through your veins, marching and striding and charging forward with all of its strength and you want to move, you want to exaggerate gestures wildly to the audience forever replaying in your memories, you want to race across the stage with a pounding heartbeat to the outstanding jewel that owns it, and you want to grip that beloved of yours tightly with a voice that screams out just for her and the ardency you've bled into your music together.

Your heart's rushing right now as you bask in your sound's glow, and while the only audience here is your bare walls and the hoodies and notebooks Lisa left from her most recent visits, you know that your passion is still as frantic and true as ever, no matter where it lingers.

This song's been on repeat for an hour; you lay there doing nothing on plush bedsheets while it overwhelms you, breathless from all the memories of her that envelop you. Her resilience, her diligence, her will, her kindness, every little tidbit that makes up the incredible existence that is her.

Phantom hands reach out to you, coarse from all the times she's tried and succeeded, tried and failed, tried and beaten herself down along the way, and you reach out for them helplessly: they wilt away. A mirage, a cruel one at that, but your hands still freeze before the perished wisps nonetheless. 

The song comforts you, heavy guitar riffs and masterful beat drops slowly detaching you from all that surrounds you other than its impact. Each note wails the struggles you've faced and overcome together, outlined by the blurry tragedies you'll endure next; you can't yet see nor understand what they are, but you can see her smiles as clearly as ever, temptations escaping from when you'll overpower them all.

Where there is a will there is a way, after all, and you've both got the determination to persist and find it together. A symphony of the days that await you ahead.

You clutch the duvet with one hand and halt your breath as the chorus immerses you. 

Sayo… How far she's come, and how far she's brought you with her. How far she'll continue to blossom with you.

That's a given, and you both know it. From the moment you met her, you realised the struggles you both faced, the pain you both felt, the incomparable levels of understanding you both shared, the striking similarities that led you both to connect with each other in a way you had no other. Your souls intertwined and mingled in a way both of you formerly thought impossible - nothing can tear them apart now.

The barely existent remains of breath you thought had eluded you did so now, except this time, not even your unending music is capable of drawing a reaction that great from you. Instead, it's her: she's the one taking your breath away as she did yesterday, today, and would do tomorrow, the teasing eternities ahead included.

Phantom or not, you want to hold those hands again, tightly and gently at the same time. You want to cherish them and all the cuts, blemishes, and flaws that create their perfect form. You want to hold her, shield her from everything that torments her as she does you, but you doubt how genuine and open you can really be. It would be overwhelming, to pull her in close in order to tell her what she really means to you, but you hope that your adoration towards her is a message resounding clearly even without that opportunity.

Your devotion to her is as boundless as the sea, you remember, pushing a crocheted azure pillow tightly to your chest. And, just like that same ocean, it never heeds limits. The depth of that devotion… Years of exploration wouldn't allow another to memorise even a fragment of it, but you're so familiar with it yourself; this love is an instinct to you. Without it, who would you be?

Without her, who would you have become?

"She…"

She admires and depends on you as a leader, and you're going to be the pillar she needs. You'll improve alongside her, ascend to the heights you both aim for. You're going to learn. You're going to excel. You're going to become someone you feel deserves her at last.

The song fades out, and you pivot around on your bed, bare feet brushing against the fibres of the carpet. Right now, your floor is a minefield, sweets askew from the songwriting session you abandoned long ago, too distracted by your thoughts about her like always.

You press pause before it gets the chance to start up again, soaking in the meaning and thought you poured into each lyric. A song telling the story of hers that everyone needs to hear, a song communicating volumes more than either of you could ever say without a backing track.

Your legs swing back and forth, no aspiration to their movements or pace.

A stray novel catches your eye. Photographs of models you can't pin a name to adorn its cover, playing the role of protagonists no-one will remember so much as a day after their tale has been told. That's okay. They could never compare to her journey anyway.

Lisa must have left that behind from another spontaneous visit, engrossed in the cliché romantic endeavours the book would spin. You let her ramble on about plotlines you've never even witnessed but could predict perfectly, taking in close to nothing.

Save for one detail.

It was described to be so romantic, so meaningful, that the protagonist was willing to die for their beloved.

You suppose that's not unlike her and yourself; you don't doubt that you'd risk everything for her in a heartbeat.

You rise to your feet for no apparent reason.

That fate isn't at all similar to that of your own. Whatever lies ahead, it can't be that, it isn't befitting for you both. Something so blind as a belief like that… It doesn't suit your story.

She's infallible, as are you - neither of you are going to collapse without pushing the other back up.

The carpet stiffens under you.

You're going to strengthen and grow, together.

Always together.

**Author's Note:**

> This is acceptable. I suppose. I don't know, I just think they're neat.
> 
> If this tag doesn't get anywhere close to 200 fics by the end of this year, I'll consider it a personal failure on my part. For Sekundi!


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